Sultana of North
by FresianRoses
Summary: After a young vixen flees from a wicked fox clan,she finds herself in Redwall Abbey.But few trust her. Twice they have allowed a fox in,and twice with dire consequences.Will they trust her,or will they leave her, to be hunted down by a vengeful clan ruler
1. Prologue

Sultana of North

I. Prologue

Flight!

She ran. The harsh wind beat against her face, but still she ran. Behind her she could hear the angry shouts of the mercenary army of fox clan, led by a cruel and oppressing fox, Visgar Fyre. She had to flee before Fyre gathered the confused and scattered archers to prepare to fire. Sultana raced on blindly, crashing through the undergrowth, painfully aware of the sunlight filtering through the branches overhead and glancing off of her copper-tinged russet fur, making her an easy target. Why had she not foreseen this problem? She could only hope that the archers were too sleepy and dumb to shoot straight. Sultana crashed into a low hanging branch, and colored stars exploded across her vision. An enraged roar of fury from Fyre sped her onwards. "Get her, you, you thinskinned, chicken brained idiots! Shoot! Shoot, you blundering ninnies! What is wrong with you?" Sultana dodged a volley of arrows, but one well-aimed shot found her shoulder. She gritted her teeth as a thin trickle of blood wound it's way along her torn tunic . But she would not cry out. She would not give the wicked fox the satisfaction of knowing he had wounded her in any way. Sultana heard several outraged curses split the air. Fyre had a painfully loud voice and a temper to match. Another hail of arrows rained down, but none found it's mark. Fyre was almost bellowing now, his curses drowning out all other sound in the forest. Tears of exhaustion carved small rivulets in the russet fur of her face, but she did not halt. Her breath was hoarse and ragged, and she was cut and scratched by the prickly undergrowth, but she sensed freedom and kept on. Sultana had no idea where her paws were taking her, but wherever they were, it had to be better than the place she left behind. She thought she heard the confused shouts and clattering of the troops, Fyre roaring his oaths and exactly what he thought about the mercenaries, the snapping of branches as she ran into them, all mixing into a confused jumble in her mind. . .

Then everything went black.

The rising sun tinged the red sandstone walls of Redwall Abbey a faint gold. On two sides, the Abbey was surrounded by the cool, green, Mossflower woods, and behind it stretched sweeping, undulating, meadowland scattered with softly-colored wildflowers. Dew clung to each blade of grass, and making a lacey spiderweb gleam in the sunrise, while dragonflies skimmed the Abbey pond, and cattail leaves dipped gently into the water. The scene was delicately tinted with gold from the rising sun, the very picture of harmony and peace.

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><p><strong> II. Chapter I<strong>

** Secrets, Rage, and Doubt**

Coming April 15th, 2012

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><p><em>Author's Note: This is my first fanfic, and I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I liked writing it. All of the (living) characters are mine, but most of the places are Brian Jacques's. Please review! Thank you - <em>

- FresianRoses


	2. Chapter I

Hello everybody!

First of all, thank you for your reviews, FerretWARLORD, Ireland Ranger, Lord Vrel, Whisper of Song and Lady Cosmic Brownie! I really appreciate it.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Redwall (though that would be cool), but all characters in this chapter are mine!

Please read and review!

Sultana of North

II. Chapter I

Secrets, Rage, and Doubt

Visgar Fyre stormed across the campsite, roaring at the archers and troops, who, at the moment, were too frightened to complain over their splitting headaches. "You let her get away! Now who knows what she will do, eh? We are known as the Phantom Swords. And do you know why?"

He turned suddenly to one of his Captains, a wiry-looking fox named Risvall. The Captain, caught half asleep, stammered. " B-because, er, er, um, I-I-I er, we-" Fyre cut him short with a glare. "Listen, you brainless idiots! We are the Phantom Swords because we use cunning and guile to conquer and plunder. We are secrecy. We do not openly challenge them. In the night, we strike! And who is behind all this? I am! Nobody knows who we are. Nobody knows when we will attack. Nobody! I said, nobody! Now, what will that vixen do? She will spill our secrets to everyone who will give her something in exchange. She will, or I am not a fox, and much less Visgar Fyre!" He snarled demonically.

After a few moments, his demeanor altered. A fire burned in his eyes, and his shoulders sagged. " And also - things no creature - should know - the things I did - never-" He muttered incoherently. Fyre raised his head. "Where is my second in command? Yes, Gralvine. Now, out with you, everybeast! I need to speak to him _alone_!" All of the mercenaries rushed away to a second smaller campfire. Fyre grabbed Gralvine's shoulders and whispered, "Listen. We need to get that vixen, Sultana, back. And soon." Gralvine whispered back. "What shall we do then, Sir?" He asked, half nervous and sincerely glad not to be the object of Fyre' burning and determined rage. Fyre bared his teeth, as the fire rose in his eyes again. "We will hunt her down."

Sultana stirred. Where was she? Was she dead? That couldn't be. Somehow, dead wouldn't feel like _this._ She could hear what sounded like a heated argument a short distance away, and a rather distressed shouting. "Please, Prudence, Oak, Mr. Spike, break it up, or you will wake her. If you must quarrel, carry on somewhere else. But not in the Great Hall, it will echo throughout the abbey." A door slammed, and the quarreling grew more faint. A bitter tasting liquid was poured into her mouth, making her cough, but she managed to swallow it. Sultana opened her eyes. An old mouse with a kindly expression was standing over her. "I see you have come around. Good, good. Here, just a little more medicine " he gave her another spoonful of the dark liquid, while she took in her surroundings. She was in a spotlessly clean room, homey and comfortable, with clear morning sunlight pouring in through a window.

And… she was in a bed. She couldn't remember the last time she was in one. If she ever had been. To the fox clan, beds were a luxury unquestionably wrong to bring on their travels. Every night they slept where ever they could. In trees, on the dirt, on rocks, and even fresh, green grass was a luxury. In snow, in rain, in storms and in hail. And always, in freezing weather. They came from the cold north where sleepless nights were not unusual. This was a clean bed with soft white sheets faintly smelling of lavender.

She watched the mouse as he peered into a cabinet, muttering. "Hmm, perhaps I had better ask Prudence and the others to bring me some more horehound and St. John's wort, too. And dried mint from the cellars." He turned to Sultana. "You are safe and beyond harm now. This is Redwall Abbey."

Sultana nodded her head. Of course. She was in Redwall Abbey. Where else would she be? The mouse said, "My name is Brother Juniper. I am the Infirmary Keeper." Sultana smiled. " And my name is Sultana. It is nice meeting you, Brother." Juniper nodded. "Yes, same here. Well, I promised to tell the Abbot once you awoke." He shuffled out of the Infirmary.

He returned a few moments later with an elderly mouse in a dark green habit and spectacles. The Brother exited the room and closed the door carefully behind him, leaving the Abbot and Sultana alone. The Abbot seated himself in a chair beside the bed, and introduced himself. " Welcome to our Abbey, child. I am Abbot Bartholomew, but you may address me as Father. I must say, it _is_ quite a mouthful. And what, may I ask, is your name?" Sultana answered, " Sultana. Just Sultana." The Abbot nodded, "Sultana, Brother Juniper will take you down to the Great Hall tonight for dinner. And please stay to speak with us after the meal. Juniper will explain. It is nice to see you in good health. I must go now." He left the Infirmary, and Juniper came in and shut the door behind him. Sultana gave him an inquisitive look. "Brother, why did the Abbot ask me to stay late after dinner?" She asked, slightly suspicious.

Were they really this kind to her? All her life, she was used to deceit and trickery. She rarely took part in it. Sultana despised sneaking up on innocent and peaceful creatures to rob and plunder. Killing without a rightful reason was beyond her. But she had grown up with that, and she had been taught that.

The Brother sighed. "Behind both questions lies the same explanation. Twice we have let a fox in out of kindness, and twice we have been met with thankless consequences. " He proceeded to tell of the times they let the fox in, with heartless results. Sultana nodded. They had met with the same cruel creatures that she had grown up with.

Juniper finished his tale. " And, Sultana, you are to stay late in the Great Hall, because they are debating whether or not to trust you or not. Now that you are strong and well, you could do considerable damage. Tonight we will decide if we will let you stay until you want to leave, or, have you leave." Sultana blurted out a question she could not hold back." B-Brother, do _you _trust me?" Juniper gave her a small smile. "I think I do, Sultana. I think I do."

Later that day, she arrived at the Great Hall with Juniper leading the way. It was the largest room she had ever seen. And the table, for her, was beyond words. The Phantom Swords clan almost never encountered any. The Abbot's chair stood at the head of the table. There appeared to be no specific order in which everyone sat. And the food looked truly delicious.

The rations she had known all her life were meager, whatever they could salvage from plundered homes or could pick off a plant. Or the occasional fish. Even if every stream and river they encountered were swollen with fish, they would most likely only come up with two or three, not only because of the clumsiness of the fisher, but also once the fish _was _caught, they would fight over the ownership of it, losing it in the squabble and frightening off every fish within thirty miles of the camp. After they had managed to lose the fish in the fight, Fyre would bang their heads together with an outraged curse, thereby scaring every fish within hearing range out of ten seasons of growth. She was an expert in edible plants and poisonous plants, and because of that, she was invaluable to the clan.

The food was spectacular. Long white baguettes, brown rye loaves and soft golden rolls with glazed crusts were just a few of the various breads. A number of different salads and a large black pot of steaming shrimp and hotroot soup in the center of the table completed the their fare.

Sultana was aware of the stares that followed her as she made her way to the table. Juniper guided her over to an empty seat next to the cook, Friar Thyme. The Brother lowered his voice." Here, Sultana, the Friar is a good creature, and does not have a short temper. " Next to the Friar was a large, lanky tan and white hare with rather large ears. One of them dipped comically as he spoke. "What ho, Thyme me old Friar chappy, would y'be so good as t' pass 'round some o' those scrumptious lookin' flippin' small round thingies ter a starvin' ol' regimental hare?" The Friar glared at him. " Those are not flipping small thingies, they are fresh baked honey rolls, and you are not a starving old hare! You have eaten four bags of candied chestnuts, and, lastly, _no,_ I am not passing the rolls, the Abbot has yet to say grace!" Juniper gave a small laugh, which he managed to turn into an unconvincing cough.

After the Abbot said grace, they began dinner. The hare was passed his rolls, but not by the Friar; a small field mouse handed him the basket. Juniper said to her in a low tone, " That rabbit, or_ hare,_ as he prefers to be called is Colonel Terrin de Smythewhyte, is, er, _very _particular about his name. _ Only_ 'y' in the last name, _not_ the first." Sultana nodded. " Colonel of the Long Patrol? Yes, I have heard of him." Juniper gave her a questioning look. " Where?" Sultana answered. " A clan I traveled with used to speak of him." The Colonel turned at the sound of her voice, and glared at her frostily. "Hmm. Young fox gel. Y'don' go foolin' us w' any bally great flippin' lies, vixen." Sultana responded," Oh, but I did not say I was going to, rabbit." Terrin de Smythewhyte flared up. " it's _hare, _and y' jolly well know tha' y'great bush-tailed red bounder! And _Colonel _t'y', nice and respectful like. An' Smythewhyte is spelled with _y_ and not _i." _Juniper gave her a meaningful look as Terrin huffed indignantly through his whiskers.

Friar Thyme noticed Sultana for the first time, and watched her curiously as she helped herself to a bowl of soup. " That's all you are having? We have plenty more where it came from. Besides, you are so thin." He commented, pushing the bowl of hotroot soup towards her. "Here, take more, please…

By the time dinner was finished, Sultana had become friends with the Friar, who was continually encouraging her to take more. She felt better than she ever had. With the clan, she never had enough to eat her fill, and she never had a friend. The foxes and mercenaries where quite solitary, keeping mostly to themselves, and she had not wanted a friend from the clan. So she made it on her own. But here was different. Everyone respected their fellow creatures, and everyone was honest and hardworking. Very much unlike the Phantom Swords, who seemed to live for napping and fighting over possessions. She knew that most of the Abbey dwellers did not trust her. And she could see why. But maybe somehow she could convince them she was different, that she was trustworthy…

Then dessert was served. A blackberry tart was brought out, along with a meadowcream and cherry flan. The Friar, who had left to bring out the dessert along with his assistants, was beaming as he pushed the cart holding the tart over to the table.

Sultana stared. Somehow, to the Phantom Swords, sweets and pastries were almost unheard of. Occasionally, there were mint leaves to chew, or the plunder of a well-stocked home, that was all. And Fyre did not usually like to bring easily perishable food with them, but if he was in a good mood, perhaps they might add pastries to their stock. Fruit was not easy to come by in the north, because of the cold climate. Eventually, one winter, because of the complaints and inevitable death by starvation, Fyre moved the clan to better climate and more fruitful robbery expeditions. That was how they came to Mossflower country.

Thyme sat down beside Sultana, and told her, " That tart is actually a recipe from my great-grandmother. She loved cooking, and baking in particular. And the flan is a secret recipe of Waterweed, that young otter across from Colonel Smythewhyte. I am surprised she tolerates that feedbag. Always trying to coax an extra serving of anything from the cooks." Sultana glanced at Terrin. "… a helpin' o' tha' jolly good flan from a charmin' otter gel? Couldn't bally well say no…" Stifling her laughter, she turned to the tart in front of her. The Friar was muttering as he helped himself to more flan. " Quite good, if I do say so myself. Personally, I'm surprised that it does not contain hotroot pepper… I thought almost _any _food had to have that pepper in it to be enjoyed by otters… but there are many things to be learned in this world…"

When dessert was over, the dishes and desserts cleared from the table, and the Dibbuns sent to bed, the comfortable, easy air about the room vanished, and the talk died down. Many of the creatures in the room fiddled with their whiskers or paws, avoiding glancing at the Abbot or Sultana. Others, such as Terrin de Smythewhyte, watched the Abbot expectantly. Finally the Abbot stood and cleared his throat. "Good creatures of Redwall Abbey, we are now gathered here on the account of a certain fox here, who goes by the name Sultana."

He glanced at Sultana, and the other creatures shifted in their seats to stare at her. She fidgeted with the sleeves of her borrowed habit, to avoid meeting their gaze. The Abbot continued. "As we are hospitable to everybeast who comes our way, we cannot deny her a place, if only temporary, at our abbey. Almost nobeast will harm the ones who wear the habit of our Order. Unfortunately, I say _almost._ Some who are heartless and cruel will indeed harm us. As was with a certain fox, whom we had taken in and cared for out of kindness, not even dreaming of harming him in any way, not wishing for any reward. But we were met with thankless consequences. The same fox's mother was a double agent. "

"So that is why we meet here. Anybeast who wants do speak, please do so."

Unsurprisingly, it was Terrin de Smythewhyte who stood up first. " Y'Abbotship, I b'lieve I will give a word or two. "

Juniper snorted. " More like a speech, no doubt about _that. "_

"Please do, Terrin de Smythewhyte. As an old friend of Redwall and Colonel of the Long Patrol, your opinion will be valued."

" Thankee, y' Abbotship Barty. Havin' dealt wi' th' bally creatures me very own self a few times, they 'ave a tendency t' be cunning and tricky. Never known a jolly individual ter be kind, but that never means there ain't a bally nice 'un, wot? But they c'n lie smoothly, too true. B'careful with the vixen, that is all I'll say now, wot, wot?" He waved his ears about in a ceremonious manner, then settled down in his chair.

A hedgehog stood up and banged a clenched fist upon the tabletop. " I don't b'lieve in a fox stayin' at our Abbey. They aren't to be trusted. Foxes are sly, cruel and heartless. This was demonstrated years ago, afore mentioned by Father Bartholomew.

" So, why should we trust _this _fox? Only 'cause she claims t' be trustworthy doesn't truly mean she is, eh? I'll stick with my beliefs. There shouldn't any foxes here, and – Hey!"

A young mouse was holding his arm and shaking it. " Oooh, you old spikedog! Merely because there was _one _fox out to trick us does _not _mean _every _fox is! _And _the fox you are complaining against can hear every word you say!"

Juniper let out a loud laugh, which he immediately turned into a cough as everybeast turned to stare. He nudged Sultana and whispered. " That hedgehog, he likes being addressed as ' Mr. Spike', and the mouse is Prudence. Haha, she's a good one, hehehoho!" he stifled his laughter quickly.

Prudence sat back down, pulling Mr. Spike with her. Abbot Bartholomew took advantage of the short silence to address Sultana. " Is there anything you would like to say for yourself, Sultana? " She nodded and rose. All eyes were trained on her, with varying expressions. Some faces held the expression of doubt, some with loathing, like Mr. Spike, others were nervous or grim, some of them almost frightened.

"Good friends, you have shown me more kindness and hospitality than I have ever known. I wish to thank you for it.

"I have lived with a traveling clan of foxes all my life, for all I know. However, even if you allowed me to stay for as long as I wanted, I would have to leave."

A murmur of surprise arose from the listeners. She continued.

" The clan ruler is cruel and rules by making his mercenaries spend their waking hours in terror of their chief. Nobeast ever dared rebel; it meant certain death. I ran away from the clan. The plan had been quite secure. I always serve the mercenaries at mealtimes, which gave me a good plan. Put a compound of different sleeping herbs in their food while serving them. Nobody suspected anything, for the troops had an especially long day of marching, and had been complaining about weariness a while before their dinner.

"Unfortunately, the night watch did not take the required amount of herbs, for in a fit of temper he had thrown his food in another's face-"

More than one derisive snort escaped from the Abbey dwellers.

" - and at the time I was too preoccupied with another's serving to drug his next plate of food that the cook served him. And early that morning, before dawn, he witnessed me escape. The night watch alerted the ruler and awoke the troops. I did manage to get away, but now the clan chief will try to hunt me down. Dangerous for me to even tell you about this. What I have just related to you is my recent history."

The Abbot stood. "I see, Sultana. But how do we know this is true? How do we know the clan you speak of does exist? How do we know that the arrow in your shoulder was not from a woodlander protecting his home?"

Sultana blinked. How could she prove that the Phantom Swords were real? And that every word she said was true? Fyre was good at keeping the clan's secrecy. Too good.

But she had an answer. " Juniper, do you still have the arrow I was shot with?"

The Brother started, surprised at being added to the discussion so suddenly. "Er, why yes, I do, I'll go get it-" he left his seat and went to the Infirmary. Sultana sat back down to await his arrival.

When he returned with the arrow, she stood up again. Sultana held the arrow aloft. " This is an arrow from the fox clan. I can prove this. " She strode over to the Abbot's chair and handed it to him. " Father, please read the writing at the feathered end of this arrow." The Abbot obliged, putting on his spectacles and peering down at the shaft.

There, written along the white-feathered end of the arrow were the three words:

_the Phantom Swords_

The Abbot read the words aloud to the listeners. There was a collective gasp, then silence. Complete silence. The Abbot looked up. "Is this the clan you traveled with, Sultana?" Wordlessly, she nodded, her mind racing. What would happen next? Would they trust her now? Now that she had proved the clan had shot her? Would they find another place where the evidence was faulty? What next? No righteous fighters would name their band 'the Phantom Swords', would they?

A young field mouse rose, and broke the heavily hanging silence. " I-I-I d-do not see anything, erm, er, am-amiss w-with her t-t-tale, th-then." He stammered, appearing very unnerved at the fact that everybeast, even the Abbot, was giving him their full attention. " There is n-nothing we c-can say, er, er, against her, um, now. What I mean is-" he took a deep breath, his speech becoming steadier. " I mean that, ' the Phantom Swords' does not sound like a name belonging to any good creature's band. I am sure Sultana will be able to explain the name's meaning." he sat back down.

Sultana arose again. " I am. 'the Phantom Swords' are called such because of the secrecy they deal in. The ruler devises a secure plan, careful and without any loopholes. No outright attacks or loud challenges. He then acts upon it…"

She trailed off, and the Abbot stood. "Sultana, I believe you may leave now, and Brother Juniper will show you to your dormitory. We will make our final decision, and now I will wish you good night." He said kindly. Sultana felt relieved. They were not throwing her out this night. Fyre would definitely be out on the hunt tonight…

She was disrupted from her reverie when Juniper took her arm. "Come, Sultana. You must be tired. She nodded, and allowed herself to be led upstairs, but not before she had thanked the Abbot and wished him good night.

She lay awake for a while, memories swirling around in her mind, then in her dreams. Fyre roaring his troops on, a house on fire, herself coughing and choking from the smoke billowing in her direction, an otter running, and then…

She was back in the northlands. A corsair ship looming not very far off, Fyre and his best archers scattered, crouching behind rocks on a cliff over a rocky beach, the arrows fitted in their bows, bowstrings taut, then an arrow accidentally flew from a bow… the whole place exploding into uproar…a corsair spear flying over her head, shouts, roars, arrows and spears alike whistling through the air…then…the corsair ship was sinking…. Deeper…water filling it, up to the decks…screams split the air…Fyre laughing…

She started awake, shaking, with cold sweat beading on her forehead. Sunlight poured through her window, dappling the floors, and the sun rose among softly hued pink, orange and gold clouds. It was too early for the birds to begin to awake, so the Mossflower forest was silent. The tranquil pond was tinged with gold. She was in Redwall. For now, she was safe. For now. She dressed herself in the habit, then went downstairs.

Brother Juniper greeted her, and as she waved back to him, she felt light and glad.

There was one more day of peace.

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><p>Chapter II<p>

**One Last Day of Peace**

Coming April 18, 2012!

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><p><em>Author's Note: Next chapter will be a bit shorter than this one, and Fyre starts his hunt. the 3rd chapter is when all the action starts to come in!<em>

_Once again, please read and review!_


	3. Chapter II

Hello! Sorry I added this so late, umm, actually, I forgot about it.

Thank you, Lord Vrel for your review!

Please read and review!

Sultana of North

III. Chapter II

One Last Day of Peace

Fyre brushed away the charred and blackened evidence of last night's campfire as Gralvine shouldered his pack and tucked his cutlass into his belt. The clan chief rose. " There is nothing left to show from our stay here, Gralvine?" Fyre's second in command answered carefully. " No, Chief, the scraps from our meals have been burned, the arrows collected and cleaned, and the ground swept smooth." Fyre nodded. " Very good. Who is our best tracker?" The other fox beckoned to a lithe rat a color between gray and black with a full green quiver and black-dyed bow strapped to his back. The rat approached the chief and Gralvine, then bowed to the former. " Yesss, Milord?" His voice was a low hiss, making a chill descend upon the listeners. Barely loud enough to be heard, and Fyre answered in an equally low voice, " You must find the vixen. You need to." The rat nodded. " Asss you wisshh, Milord. I sshall." Nobeast had any doubt he could fail.

It was morning, bright and gentle, that saw Brother Juniper hurry down to Sultana. " What splendid morn! " He beamed happily. " The Redwallers have decided to trust you, Sultana! You are accepted here! Of course there where a few skeptical ones, like the Colonel and Mr. Spike… Oh dear, I smell breakfast being made, let us hurry before the great Colonel flop-eared glutton begins filling himself in the kitchen. The Friar will need all the help he can get!"

Sultana loved the kitchen instantly. She was wreathed in the delicious aromas as she helped the Friar put a tray of oatcakes into the oven.

At that moment, Terrin strutted in, sniffing the air. "What ho, Thyme old chap, what tuck are y' cookin' on this jolly mornin'?" Thyme wagged his ladle in front of the Colonel's nose. "It is not _tuck_, it is oatcakes!" Terrin de Smythewhyte dipped his left ear low. "Is that all the bally scoff yer makin' fer a starvin' troop of Redwallers, old pal?" Thyme scowled. " There will also be blackberry and young crystallized maple leaf pancakes, strawberries with preserved damsons, and warm mint tea!"

He turned from the hare and removed the top from a jar of damsons preserved in honey. The Colonel dipped his paw in a bowl of crystallized maple leaves and ate a few. The Friar turned at the sound of chewing and munching. " You rabbit! Those were for the pancakes! You ate them!" Terrin adopted an expression of ruined dignity, with crumbs clinging to his whiskers and a maple leaf stuck to his nose. " I, steal them? Never 'ave I been so falsely accused of such base actions! Never, sah- whoa, steady in the ranks there!" The Friar swelled in outrage, waving his ladle. "Out! You stealer of innocent abbey dweller's breakfasts, out, I say!"

The observing Redwallers fell about laughing as the furious Friar chased Terrin out of the kitchens. Sultana dried her eyes, teary from laughter, watching Juniper lean against a table, laughing helplessly. " Hehehoho! Did you see the-hehehe! Look on the feedbag's- hahaha-face when the Friar went at him with, hehehoho, the ladle!"

The friar returned, puffing and indignant, as a small mole stirred blackberries into the pancake mixture. Brother Juniper hid his laughter by concentrating on adding more wood to the fire for the ovens, and Sultana removed the hot oatcakes from the ovens and laid them on a table to cool. Their delicious aroma floated around her, unlike anything she had ever smelled before. Friar Thyme straightened his hat, which had tilted to a far angle as he had chased off Terrin, then laid the preserved damsons alongside the strawberries on a tray.

Afterwards, breakfast was served. Sultana was again seated between Juniper and Thyme, but the Colonel was at the far end of the table, far from the Friar. More than a few Abbey dwellers seemed sincerely glad that Sultana was to stay, and greeted her as she passed. Now, feeling cheerful, she helped herself to some of the generous fare.

She nearly choked at the sight of Terrin de Smythewhyte. The hare was behind an extraordinarily tall stack of pancakes, honey and blackberry sauce cascading down it's sides, and piled high with honey comb, strawberries and preserved damsons. The tips of the hare's ears were the only bits of him visible from the stack, and one had honey comb stuck in it. His arm appeared from around his pancakes and reached for the basket of oatcakes. Brother Juniper saw the hare, and he gradually turned a bright shade of red from suppressed laughter at the sight. The Friar was too absorbed in pouring sauce on his pancakes to notice either of his friend's odd actions.

After breakfast, the fox and Juniper left the Great Hall for the abbey grounds. they were sitting in the orchard, with sunlight dappling the ground around them. Sultana asked the Brother, "Is it always so peaceful here? Excepting the times I have been told about." She added hastily. Juniper chuckled. "Oh, we have had wars before, though not for many seasons, and yes, we are peaceful and wish no harm to anybeast." Sultana smiled." It must be nice to live here." Juniper sighed. "Yes, it is, it is…" he trailed off, and his head drooped down, into sleep.

Later that day saw Sultana in tall grass. Brother Juniper had left to his duties in the Infirmary, and had sent Prudence, a mole named Durrley, a young squirrel known as Oakflower, and an abbey Sister, Violet to bring him some herbs and plants he had needed. Sultana had decided to come with them, because of her knowledge of such things.

Sister Violet tucked a sprig of mint into her basket. "Well, my basket is full, so I'll start laying out the food the Friar had persuaded us to bring." Prudence nodded. "Good. Picking herbs is tough work!" She said, laughing. Durrley begged to differ. "Hurr, hurr, et be no harder'n layin' out in th' broight sunshoine on a summer day!" Oakflower and Sultana laughed. "Right you are, Durrley, right you are!" The squirrel agreed. Sultana pulled a plant out by it's roots as she joined in the merry conversation. Sister Violet spread a checkered cloth out on the grass and placed a still-warm bowl of honey out on it, along with some oatcakes, gooseberry jam and a bottle of strawberry fizz as the creatures sat down to enjoy the good food that was laid out in front of them.

Visgar Fyre watched as the sinewy dark rat, Shlavvo Darkkedaie, removed an arrow from his quiver and traced around something unseen with it's tip. Then the rat looked up at the treetops, and a small, grim smile of satisfaction crept across his face, but leaving his black, expressionless eyes untouched. He proceeded with his tracking, like a shadow and darkly silent. The troops followed him, Fyre and Gralvine, yet all but the chief afraid of Shlavvo. The rat dusted a bruised leaf with the feather of his arrow, then he turned away, and continued on a different trail, flitting through the wood, with the clan following behind him.

Brother Juniper accepted the five baskets from Sultana, saying as he did so, " Good, good, plenty of herbs, exactly what I needed. " An expression of confusion spread across his features as he inspected a green leafy plant from Sultana's basket. " What is this, Sultana? I do not believe I have ever seen it before." Sultana answered, " A sort of plant, if the leaves are crushed, is good to use on cuts and bruises." The Brother nodded. "I do not doubt you, but I must say…" He trailed off. Sultana grinned. "I learned about it during my years with the clan." Juniper placed it in a jar, and continued to sort out the contents from the other baskets.

Sultana glanced nervously out a small, round window, half expecting the Phantom Swords to come marching out into the open. But of course they did not. Fyre was too clever to do that. Tonight she had to leave. She would leave in secret before dawn, gathering a small supply of food and drink, then she would set out into the world. She would never be able to stay, not while the clan was on the hunt. And that would be until either they or she were nonexistent, or they had captured her.

The young fox hoped she would never have to face Fyre, but it seemed inevitable. While Fyre lived, there would be no safety for anybeast, anywhere. She needed to keep the abbey safe from harm, and that meant leaving it. An abbey full of peace-loving creatures would be no obstacle to the wicked clan chief; he had dealt with that sort countless times. This was merely more creatures and a bigger building. What did that matter?

She was startled from her reverie by Brother Juniper. " Ahh, how the day has flown by us! Lunch over, and supper is nearing. What a day. If you do not mind, my friend, I shall take a nap, as my duties are finished…" He yawned and moved to a heavily cushioned armchair.

Sultana was helping Friar Thyme down in the kitchens. She had decided that the kitchen was one of her favorite places in the abbey. It was full of delicious smells, and food she had never even dreamed of in all her seasons. She found herself not a bad cook. She actually was almost good. Sultana placed a tray of chestnut biscuits that Thyme had made into an oven.

Friar Thyme was pleased. He could not help but be pleased. The young fox he had befriended the day before was a good assistant in the kitchens, and funny, too. She had done quite a good impression of the great feedbag Colonel, and thank goodness Terrin did not turn up at that moment. He spread honey on the crust of a warm loaf fresh from an oven, contemplating. Tonight's dessert would be good, for sure. Prudence always made delicious trifles. And the pudding he needed to make…but never mind. He knew he could trust Sultana with the biscuits that were now in the ovens, and also probably the tomato soup, which was now simmering away over a fire.

Sultana sampled a biscuit, being careful not to burn herself on the tray. It was truly delicious, much tastier than the hard, crumbly ones she was used to. She gave the soup a quick stir, seeing the Friar busy with the bread. Everything smelled amazing, and for a moment the fox took in all the scents about her. The aromas from the biscuits, the soup, and the bread wafted through the air.

Dinner was wonderful. Sultana ate heartily, preparing for the long and seemingly endless journey ahead of her. Terrin was now seated beside Waterweed, his ear dipping and waving as he chatted happily away, about food, naturally. Thyme was beaming happily as he sat down next to Sultana, gazing at the food he had prepared, now spread on the table. "Mmm, yes. The soup came out tasty." Commented the Friar as he sampled some of the tomato soup. Sultana agreed. Terrin's ear waved airily about. "I say, otter gel, the flippin' scoff is very much t'my jolly likin'" Waterweed smiled. "Good, Colonel. Did you try the biscuits? Very good, here, do have some…" the otter handed the apparently starving hare the basket.

Sultana turned back to her plate. The hare was an irrepressible creature, always looking for more food.

After dinner, dessert was served. A large tray of trifles and a magnificent pudding piled high with preserved and candied fruits, honeycomb, meadowcream and candied nuts were laid out on the table. Sultana's mouth was almost watering at the smells of the delicious desserts. The Friar beamed hugely, and Terrin said, his ear dipping deeply, "What a jolly pudd, I say, chaps! And the bally trifles are truly scrumptious lookin', wot, wot!"

'Magnificent pudd' hardly summed it up. The pudding was absolutely spectacular, and the trifles were delicious. Sultana took a large serving of pudding, much to the Friar's delight, and helped herself to a trifle. That night was, for Sultana, truly unforgettable. Her last day of peace was a good one. A wonderful one.

Shlavvo Darkkedaie traced another mark with his arrow. Night had fallen, and yet the tracker rat continued as if it were day. It was a moonless night, and the forest was still and silent. Fyre followed his tracker, the silent and wraith-like rat. Shlavvo was a mysterious creature, like a malignant shadow flitting darkly through the wood. His arrows were dyed red, and his bow was colored black. Tracking was natural for him, and he used the skill well. Shlavvo appeared beside the clan chief. " Milord, ssshe hasss gone thisss way. It iss in the direction of Redwall Abbey, sssir." He bowed slightly, and drifted back to his trail.

Fyre nodded. Redwall Abbey. He had heard of it before, an unconquerable place. Bah! Those who tried to take over and failed were weak. None knew half as much as himself when it came to deception. He allowed a small smile curl the corners of his mouth. None. He was the ruler of the Phantom Swords. He was Visgar Fyre!

Sultana wrapped herself in her warm blanket. Redwall Abbey was a place of peace and plenty, of friends and happiness, of serenity and tranquility. And she was going to keep it that way. She nestled herself deep into the comfortable bed, with clean, soft white sheets, and a soft pillow…She dropped off into a deep, dreamless sleep…

Visgar Fyre called halt that night. "Tonight we will rest, for the night grows old, and we shall begin again tomorrow. Tomorrow we shall take up our hunt." The clan lay thankfully down upon the rich undergrowth of the forest, and instantly fell asleep, but Fyre lay awake, an unquenchable fire burning in his eyes. The vixen would be caught. And he would not stop searching until she was found.

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><p>Chapter III<p>

**The Journey North**

Coming April 26th!

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><p><em>Author's Note: thank you for reading! Next chapter, Fyre, Shlavvo, Gralvine and the clan continue on their hunt, Sultana leaves the Abbey, and sets off for the North. I would really, really appreciate it if you reviewed, as this is my first fanfic and love any sort of constructive criticism!<em>


	4. Chapter III

Hello All! The third chapter! Thank you Whisper of Song, Lord Vrel and ferretWARLORD for reviewing my previous chapter! Thank you Lord Vrel for sticking with this story and reviewing every chapter! Well, all I can say is...Enjoy! And please read and review!

Sultana of North

Chapter III

The Journey North

The sun reached it's first rays above the horizon as Sultana arose and prepared to leave the Abbey she had grown so fond of during her brief stay. The fox was in the Infirmary, scrawling an untidy note for Brother Juniper to find, on the wall, using a bit of charcoal she had taken from one of Brother Juniper's cupboards.

Sultana carefully made her way down the worn staircase and into the kitchens, hoping to find a little food to carry with her in the bag she had made from an old torn habit, thinking, surely they would not mind if she took just a little food… she shouldered the green bag and headed for the doorway.

The vixen was dressed in the pine-colored tunic and tight fitting brown pants that she had worn during her stay with the clan. They were torn and messy, but she could not wear the habit that the Redwallers had given to her. A habit would be ill suited to endless travelling.

A slight rustle made her freeze, the fur on the back of her neck prickling. How could she explain the reason she was in the clothes of the clan, taking food from the kitchen? Sultana stole a glance over her shoulder, and let out a sigh of relief. Nobeast.

As if in a dream, she had stepped out of the Abbey, and into the world of danger she was bound for. Sultana looked back on Redwall Abbey for the very last time, turned, knowing that she most likely would never lay eyes again upon this peaceful place. Maybe, if Fyre was gone forever, she might come back, back to Thyme, Brother Juniper, Prudence, Abbot Bartholomew…she shouldered her bag, silently leaving.

Visgar Fyre had awoken, but lay quietly, watching his tracker. Shlavvo was seated, leaning against a tree, deftly fixing an arrow tip to the shaft. The fire-hardened tip was ground to a razor sharp edge that glistened cruelly. It was clear that the rat treated every arrow until the point was keen and perfect.

Shlavvo plucked a blade of grass and laid it on the edge of the arrow tip. It broke cleanly in two, and the rat tested the other edge of the arrow point similarly, and the grass blade snapped in pieces like the previous one. Shlavvo carelessly tossed the arrow, and it cut through the tree leaves neatly, and landed, buried tip down, half it's length into the forest floor. Smiling grimly, he pulled it from the ground and laid it upon a stack of arrows awaiting dye.

Sultana seated herself beneath a tree to consider her situation. She could not travel through Mossflower, she had to flee from the lands surrounding the Abbey as soon as possible. She could go east, or west, or south, but the direction she settled on was the north. In the north, foxes were common, and she could disguise as a seer or fortuneteller. Though she did not like the north, it was the most safe for her there. If Fyre asked around if anybeast had seen a young vixen, there would be too many of them for him to pinpoint the one he was looking for.

Pleased with her decision, she continued her journey, back to the place she never thought she would see again.

Brother Juniper awoke as dawn's first rays shone through his window and illuminated his dormitory with pale golden light. The Brother brushed the nightcap from his head, and gazed out the window. The soft gray blue of early dawn was mingled with the sun's pale rays, and in the distance, he could see a lone traveler.

Once the Brother had risen and dressed, he made his way down to the Infirmary. He opened a cupboard chose an assortment of bottles and boxes, selecting a small glass jar, pouring a third of its contents into a bowl.

He held it up to the sunlight, which shone through the liquid. "Extract of nightshade." He said softly, then consulted an old, worn book with yellowed pages that lay open upon a table, and set to work chopping a dark green herb. After it was finely chopped to small pieces, he placed it in the bowl with the extract of nightshade.

After he had finished his concoction, he poured it into a bottle, and held it at eye level. The Infirmary Keeper smiled, saying, "There. Perfect for any sickness." He placed it in a cabinet, and left, not noticing the messy charcoal letters sprawled out on the wall behind him…

As he made his way down to the Great Hall, he could not help but notice Sultana was not present. He satisfied himself, thinking she was in the kitchens with the Friar. The fox loved it there. Juniper watched Colonel Terrin as he bobbed around the Hall, toward the kitchens, and the Brother followed him.

Sultana decided to go through the meadowlands, since she knew Fyre and the clan were in Mossflower wood. As soon as she was safe and far from Fyre, she would travel north. The young fox planned her new life once she reached her destination. She would live as a travelling fortune-teller, trading her services for food or lodging.

Sultana reached into a hidden pocket of her tunic and retrieved a gold pendant upon a blood-red silk ribbon. Holding it up, she gazed at it. The brilliant deep gold of the pendant was intensified by the dark shining crimson of the ribbon it hung upon.

She placed it over her head and let it dangle loosely from her neck. The necklace reflected the light brightly, and Sultana tucked the pendent under the neck of her tunic, and hid its brilliancy so it would not attract Fyre's , making her an easy find. The clan chief knew nothing of the necklace, and neither did any of the clan. It was her own secret. The vixen had found it lying in a created by the entwined roots of an elm - the tree was the place of her temporary stay, and attached to the necklace was a note that read:

_This is a gift from one you know not of. You must never lose it, sell it, or show it to anybeast. You shall find it important one day. From not only a well-wisher, but a fleeing one. Do well, and may the seasons look favorably upon you. _

The message had occupied her thoughts for a long time, and it puzzled her. To her it was an especially pretty trinket, and nothing else. Why must she take such painstaking care of it? And never show it to another? How could a shining encircled arrow on a red ribbon be important to her? Why had the giver of the gift felt the need to write her a note and leave her a necklace? It was as if the arrow and ribbon was more than what it appeared. And maybe it was.

But soon the Sultana had forgotten about the mysterious golden arrow hung upon a blood-colored ribbon. Fyre was carefully planning a raid, charting every last part of the plan onto scraps of parchment. This was the first raid the young vixen was to take part in, and the necklace was hastily pushed to the back of her mind. Several weeks previously, she had sewn an extra secret pocket into her tunic for it, and stored it inside.

Now, she could wear it. Perhaps. Yet had not the note said not to show it to another? She chose to obey the unknown creature's wishes, and tucked the necklace into her pocket.

Friar Thyme was slightly puzzled. Brother Juniper had not seen Sultana this morning, and neither had he. The Friar had believed her to be with Juniper, yet she was not. Perhaps she was merely sleeping late. The Abbot was still abed, and that aided Thyme in his beliefs. The Friar glanced warily at the door, hoping the Colonel's long floppy ears would not appear through the doorway again.

Withdrawing his eyes, he pushed a tray of strawberry scones into an oven. The fox had seemed an early riser, and yet, it was nearly breakfast time. Redvale, a young red squirrel who tended the oven, commented, "Where is Sultana? She likes helping in the kitchens. She would be good to have here as we are short one kitchen assistant." Seeing the Friar's puzzled look, she explained. "Mirel is ill." The Friar sighed. Mirel was a tall, hardworking otter who frequently helped him. Now he was sick. The Friar answered Redvale's question. "I do not know. We have not seen Sultana."

Brother Juniper uncorked the bottle of medicine he had made early that morning, and, glancing at the otter, poured a generous spoonful.

Mirel was taken ill that morning. The otter was pale beneath his brown facefur, and weak. He accepted the Brother's concoction wordlessly, and after he swallowed the medicine, he murmured, "I know, " He began. Juniper asked, "What, Mirel?" The otter continued, "I know about…about…Sultana. Where she…is." Juniper leaned closer to hear Mirel's quiet voice. "Where is she?"

"Gone…" The otter whispered, falling unconscious.

It could not be. The Mirel was delirious, not thinking about what he was saying, but what if…

He turned, and thin untidy writing caught his eye.

Visgar Fyre kept his watched the dark rat as he halted, his expressionless face betraying nothing. Shlavvo turned to his chief, and said, "Look, massster." He flicked his arrow to a space between two entwined vines. The fox squinted in the indicated direction.

There, Fyre knew it was Redwall Abbey.

"What happens now, Shlavvo?"

"I am led to believe ssshe isss there, sssir. Ssshe hasss collapsssed here, sssir," He pointed to a place ahead of them where the undergrowth was flattened slightly. "Then ssshe could have arousssed herssself and made her way there, but no, a few beassstsss from the Abbey brought her."

Fyre did not question the natural skill of his tracker. At one time, Sultana had been brought to Redwall.

They crept onward, and soon they arrived at the edge of Mossflower.

Sultana glanced over her shoulder. Would Fyre spot her? She could not tell. The young fox sat beneath a spreading oak, opened her bag, and reached inside. The first thing she withdrew was a biscuit, which she bit into eagerly. How she would miss Friar Thyme's cooking, when she had eaten all the food she had taken. Sultana made a small breakfast for herself with some of the food she had.

When she finished and packed up, she headed onwards.

Shlavvo trusted only himself with investigating the path on the Abbey grounds. Blending into the shadows, he inspected the tracks of four animals, and he came across something that made him stop and stare. Swiftly and silently, he slunk back to Fyre to inform him about this unexpected change of events.

"Milord, I may tell you sssomething?"

Fyre nodded, attempting to read the dark rat's thoughts. But the tracker's face was an expressionless mask, and revealed nothing.

"The vixen left the Abbey."

"She did? Which direction did she take?"

Wordlessly, the rat pointed to the green, undulating meadowlands.

A small and reddish lone traveler steadily plodded onwards.

Sultana.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter IV<br>**

**As Fast As You Can  
><strong>

Coming May 6th, 2012!

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><p><em>Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Did you like it? What did you think of the necklace? Please review and tell me all you think of this fanfic! I really, really, really, REALLY appreciate it! I really like any sort of feedback!<br>_

_-FresianRoses  
><em>


	5. Chapter IV

Hello there! Anyways sorry for the delay, couldn't publish it yesterday.

Hey!

*Dodges random things people who wanted to read this _yesterday_ throw*

Anyways, Chapter IV! Yay! Thank you Midnite Fox, Lord Vrel and Whisper of Song for reviewing my last chapter! If you want to read my whole list of thanks, you'll have to go to my profile.

Please read and review!

Sultana of North

Chapter IV

As Fast As You Can

Morning sunlight streamed down into the Infirmary, illuminating the small form of Brother Juniper. The messy charcoal writing was spread out on the wall in front of him, and the Brother slowly deciphered it.

_Dear friends,_

_ The time has come for me to leave you. I wish to thank you for showing me more hospitality than I have ever known, and offering me a place in your Abbey. However, that cannot be. Fyre hunts me as I write, and will not rest until he has his revenge - revenge for my escaping him, and defying him by doing so. If he finds the Abbey, will you please tell him you know nothing of me. _

_ Now I must leave, and wish you many years of good health and luck. Maybe one day we will meet again._

_ -Sultana_

Juniper read the note again, hardly believing. Sultana, the young fox they had taken in, was gone. Perhaps they would never see her again.

Slowly, he left the Infirmary, and made his way down the old worn sandstone staircase to tell the Abbot.

Visgar Fyre watched the retreating figure in the distance, a vicious glee burning in his black eyes. A mercenary fox asked, "Shall we charge and capture her, chief?"

Fyre shook his head. "No, we will surround her."

Sultana glanced over her shoulder, watching the woodlands for Fyre. The forest was far behind her now, and little was discernable. She climbed onto a large mossy rock and seated herself carefully on its flattish top, a very long, thin piece of wood in her paw. Removing a knife from her belt, the vixen carved away the bark, and began to make her bow.

After a few mistakes, she had whittled the stick to a long, slim piece that could bend slightly, but not break. She leapt lightly from the rock, gripping the half finished bow, and set off.

The sun had risen in the sky, and soft morning light shone down upon the traveling young fox as she made her way across the meadow, each step drawing her closer to the place she was bound for.

Visgar Fyre and Shlavvo watched the small group of mercenaries, chosen for stealth and cunning, as they seated themselves upon the forest floor.

The leader lowered his voice to a whisper, and said to the bedraggled troops now huddled around him,

"We shall surround the vixen, and when I give the signal, we will close in on her. Keep your weapons ready, and if you make the slightest sound-" He broke off threateningly, raising his sword a touch higher. The fighters shifted uneasily, as he began again.

"Now, keep close to the trees, rocks, shadows, anything to conceal you. And do not get close to her, until I give the signal." He threw back his head and gave a bird-like screech in demonstration, and the troops nodded.

"Now, we shall begin."

By the time breakfast was finished, word of Sultana's departure had spread. The abbey dwellers knew about the charcoal note, and everybeast had seen it.

Prudence and Sister Violet weeded the strawberry patch, musing over the fox's leaving.

"Where will she go? To our knowledge, she has no place she calls home." Prudence sighed, as she pulled a weed from the strawberry patch.

Sister Violet replied, "I cannot say, but I wonder where she is now."

Later that morning found Brother Juniper in the comfortable Infirmary tending Mirel. The mouse carefully measured an amount of dried horehound on a worn, wooden scale, and added it to a well-blended mixture of herbs. He absentmindedly crushed a bundle of leaves with a mortar and pestle, thinking. To where was Sultana traveling? How was she faring, now that she had left the safety of the Abbey walls?

He allowed his thoughts to wander, sifting through the possibilities. She had left no clue as to where she was journeying, and the Brother was baffled.

Mirel opened his eyes slowly, taking in all that was around him. Everything was blurred slightly, and the room seemed to spin a little. A pain racked his limbs, and every breath he took hurt him.

He had seen Sultana that morning, as he had been making his way the kitchen in need of a drink of water. The otter remembered the fox, in a tunic and pants, colored like the forest, with a bag she filled with provisions. She had been creeping around the room silently, and she moved about as if she did not want anybeast to hear her. Mirel would have asked her what she was up to, but a cloudy feeling filled his mind, and the last thing he remembered was Sultana slowly stepping out the Abbey.

Later, he awoke feeling a bit dizzy, but otherwise fine. He could not remember how he came to be amongst the bags of flour, and supposed he had come down to the kitchen for something, and fallen asleep.

Soon, it became clear that he was ill. A cloudy mist hung across his vision, and there was a faint ringing is his ears. He was wobbling, and he found himself in odd places, without an idea as to how he came to be there. The otter had left to seek out Brother Juniper, and the mouse had taken a bottle filled with dark amber –colored liquid from a cupboard. Juniper had given him a spoonful, along with another mixture of dark medicine. The latter had sent him to sleep quickly, and he sunk into a dreamless slumber.

When he awoke, the Brother was crushing a bright flower. It had the color of a dandelion, but with wide petals and a black center. For a short time, the scene stayed in focus, and the otter sat upright quickly. Then the room gave a dramatic sweep, and suddenly, he was on his back, completely winded.

He told the Brother about Sultana, and then he was pulled back into unconsciousness.

Now, he was lying in a white sheeted, clean Infirmary bed, feeling terrible. The Brother's face was creased with worry, and he fumbled with the worn wooden spoon.

"How do you feel, Mirel?"

The otter had never before felt so ill, but he did not want to concern the kindly mouse.

"Around the same, Brother."

Even though he was only worse.

Sultana took the knife from her belt, and tossed it into the air, aiming for a small bush far ahead of her. It landed, with a dull thud, into the bush, and was buried half its length into the ground. Pleased, she continued to practice throwing it.

After she was satisfied with her aim, she pulled her knife from the center of a target she had painted with violet-colored berry juice onto the bark of a sycamore, and settled herself down beside a rock to enjoy the wild strawberries she had found on beside the old tree.

Sultana buried the remains of the strawberries in the soft ground, and concealed any evidence of her stay there. She slipped the knife back into its place in her belt and struck off.

She had traveled only a short distance, when she heard the slight sound of a leaf, crackling underpaw. There had been no leaves on the path she had been taking, and she glanced suspiciously at the trees alongside her. After some hesitation she continued onward, supposing the sound had been created by a bird, or just the wind.

But that was when the long grass to her right rippled. Sultana pulled her knife from her belt and murmured softly, "Who goes there."

She received no response, and she said, louder, "Who goes there!"

Still no reply.

The vixen silently laughed at herself. She was yelling at the voiceless wind, which blew the leaves, and made the grass sway. But she gripped her knife tightly, on guard.

Sultana relaxed, as nothing happened.

But she failed to notice that all was completely, unfathomably, silent.

A bird's shriek split the quiet, and everything happened at once.

The fox was surrounded.

By the foes she was fleeing.

Brother Juniper sighed, glancing at the occupied bed across from Mirel's. A young red squirrel, Elmflower, was ill with the same sickness the otter had. It defied the Infirmary Keeper's attempts to reduce the illness, for he had not seen anything like it.

The Brother filled a spoon with the sleep medicine as Elmflower awoke, a dazed look in her eyes. He held the spoonful out to her, and she drank it slowly. When she finished, her lids lowered heavily over her eyes, and she fell asleep.

It was all he could do, give them medicine, and have them rest. He had not yet informed the Abbot about the illness, for Mirel's sleeping drug would wear off any minute now, and the Brother needed to be there when he awoke.

Finally, he pulled a fraying rope attached to a small brass bell, and the sound reverberated around the room. He waited for a bit, and a young mouse entered quietly.

"Yes, Brother?" He asked.

"Please, Trall, will you go to the Abbot and ask him to come to the Infirmary? I have something very important to tell him."

The mouse nodded quickly, and hurried off.

Brother Juniper sighed, nervously weighing the amount of the medicine he had left. He had plenty of the sleep liquid left, for he had given his patients only small doses. In the other bottle, two thirds of the liquid remained, and he decided to use it sparingly.

Presently, the Abbot arrived, a worried frown creasing his forehead. Brother Juniper dismissed young Trall, and motioned the Abbot to an oak chair, that sat on the floor in front of him.

"What is it, Brother Juniper?" The Abbot asked quietly.

The Brother responded, "The two are very ill, Father. I have seen nothing like this sickness."

Abbot Bartholomew's worried frown deepened. "No, surely, Brother-"

Juniper shook his head. "I can look in the Infirmary files again, but I do not have much hope."

Sultana froze for a moment, watching her enemies. Fyre stood in front of her, his sword in his paw. Slowly, they advanced, and the young fox stiffened, poised to strike. The dark tracker, Shlavvo, had an arrow fitted in his bow, and everybeast held a glistening weapon.

As the troops closed in on her, Sultana's paw strayed to her belt, her eyes never leaving them. Every sword, spear, arrow and rapier was pointed in her direction, and she felt cold dread growing inside her.

Somebeast stumbled, and in the second's distraction, Sultana pulled out her knife and lashed out at the nearest mercenary. He fell, and the spear pointed at her neck was taken with him. Everything exploded into screams, curses, and clattering din as Sultana leapt over the fallen creature. She slashed a sword with her knife, knocking it out of her way. A tall, thin weasel raced after her, swinging a rapier .

Sultana ran, not heeding the blades that scraped her, only one thought on her mind. She had to get out. She had to run. The young fox halted suddenly, almost pitching over. Gralvine stood in front of her, pointing a cutlass to her throat, and a wicked smile curled the corners of his mouth.

"You cannot flee, prisoner."

Sultana tried to dodge past him, but he stepped sideways. "Did you hear me, prisoner?"

The vixen nodded slightly, indicating she had heard him.

"Good, now come along, and we shall see our chief." He beckoned, turning slightly, his cutlass still aimed at her neck.

Sultana made a step as if to follow him, then sped past him, crying with a mixture of fear and anger,

"Never!"

She heard Gralvine snarl, and Fyre cursed, enraged. The troops were at her heels, shouting and brandishing weapons.

A swift dark rat had nearly caught up with her, and she turned to face him. The rat swung his rapier, and growled as she dodged out of the weapon's path, catching him in the arm with her knife. Her opponent clenched his teeth as Sultana gripped her knife, preparing for his next attack.

The mercenary slashed his rapier at her, and Sultana managed to leap out the way, but not before he had injured her shoulder. She gritted her teeth in pain as the weapon slid from her, and she turned to run. She could not fight with her shoulder injured. It was the one that had been shot on the night of her escape.

The rat raced after her, taking advantage of the injury that slowed her.

Sultana ran, her heart beating heavily. The wind beat against her face, and pounded in her ears. Everything was blurred, and the fox put on an extra burst of speed to escape the rat behind her. A sword seemed to suddenly materialize from midair, and Sultana fell flat as it flew over her, curving in a graceful arc. The vixen leapt up, and pulled the sword from the ground, taking it with her.

Then she sped onwards, not heeding the direction her paws were taking her. She could not help but think of the day she had fled the clan, running from ones she had known all her life.

Sultana dodged an arrow, and paused a moment to take it from the ground. She would need weapons for the days ahead of her.

Another arrow came whistling through the air, this time taking her in side.

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><p>Chapter V<p>

**Escape to Freedom, or, Nearly Hopeless**

Coming May 15, 2012!

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><p><em>Author's Note: Did you like it? What did you think? Is there any improvements I can make? This was a fun chapter to write, maybe a bit difficult at times, but hey, I think it came out fine! Please review! I REALLY appreciate reviews!<em>


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